Red and Dirty
by still-lilies
Summary: Alfred, Ivan, the Cold War, the past, and the tension. Russia/America.


_Note: Trying a new writing style here. Also, this contains sex, but not of the type that makes you fap while reading. It's more to underline the unhealthiness of the relationship._

* * *

The pleasant smile had not been there, but it made no difference because Ivan's expression still wasn't right- his face is too calm, too lifeless, his eyes stare nowhere and refuse to acknowledge the around, like _you are so below that I don't quite care_ and this is almost as bad as his serenity that comes in all the wrong times, the smile that is not of sadistic delight but of peace and quiet, the smile that he dons when he kills and shoots and tortures it's like he's using the smile to pretend that he's not here because _I don't really want to do this you know_ (like he's in his own paradise where the sunflowers are).

It's the smile that he doesn't wear when he grabs Alfred by the neck and smashes him several times against the wall with that calm face as if to say _I quite actually enjoy this you know._

**-**

They hadn't always hated each other, really. They had spoken, calm and friendly, and Alfred remembers (vaguely, a little string of memory left behind) that Ivan had said, "We nations are quite human, really, and I think we're too human", when Alfred came to visit him, except now he can't remember _why (and wow, we used to be friends, it was quite a long time ago, _almost_ friends really because our hate started even back in the 1800's) –_

Oh, right, it was sometime after 1905, but what does that have to do with anything?- ah, yes, that's right, Arthur had complained that Ivan- that Ivan what? And why?

Come to think of it, Alfred had always remembered his relationship with Ivan as, _see this guy, Russia? He is a Dirty And Fucking Crazy Red Bastard but let's pretend we're friends because it's good for me. _

-

Oh they would pretend, they still do, that they have some sort of good relationship.

As countries, of course, their relationship had warmed up quite well; nobody lied about the end of the Cold War. But they were human deep down, and while _America and Russia _had a good relationship, _Alfred and Ivan _were human and they were something different.

-

Alfred struggles in Ivan's grip and chokes out, "You know, I have quite the powerful military force, and once war _really _starts, I'll be there to kick your ass so hard you won't stand."

Ivan hadn't smiled, but one side of his mouth seemed to turn a bit higher, and he peers at Alfred with a pair of large and mockingly curious eyes, "Is that so? Ah, I'm looking forward to seeing your expectations unfulfilled when the war _really _starts, then. Don't tell me you still think it's so easy after the previous World Wars?"

-

Alfred tells Ivan, "You know, me and Lithuania get _very _well recently. Oh, he may not live with me anymore, but he's a wonderful friend. We're _very _close. Sometimes he comes over, and sometimes he sleeps with me at night watching movies," He adds, watching smugly as Ivan's hand grips into a fist.

Watching Ivan from behind knowing that he's about to snap had almost, almost, been like watching a movie (Watching him about to break the little mask of the gentle child in the body of the adult).

_(Really, Ivan, we all know that smile is a mask, and do you really believe that you got so much into your facade that you became it?)_

Ivan turns around, devoid of his smile, and pushes him on the floor with force, sending several blows on his face, and for a moment Alfred regrets it, but he is still satisfied at seeing Ivan snarl and hiss, "Lithuania, _ah yes I know he's wonderful-" _Ivan stops the blows and grabs Alfred, and smashes him against the floor several times, "But do not fucking talk about him like that, _do you hear me_?" He breaths and pauses, and snarls again, "_Ты__ меня__ слышишь__, __грязный__, __подлый__ сукин__ сын__?!"_

-

Tensions had been high, always had been.

Alfred and Ivan would go out together for a drink, discuss everything that they can get their hands on, whether it was light and breezy like the weather and their complains on it (it was never their weather, because Alfred never complains and Ivan has no reason to- he had gotten used to the bitter, hollow cold a long time ago), or if it was Arthur or Francis or the Axis Powers, and then it was usually Ludwig. Especially after World War II and the mess that Ludwig's boss left it in.

Alfred would pretend and go along with an act of friendship- an act that there was something _personal _in their friendship (friendship does not mean alliance, because they are only this when they are human), and Alfred _suspected_ that Ivan did too, because he would watch Ivan, particularly his face and especially his eyes, when the other thought he wasn't looking, and had wondered if he was up to something.

-

"Bloody hell, America," Arthur tells him one morning when he enters his room with a cup of tea, "It seems like you and Russia can never stay calm with each other in the room anymore. What happened and damn it, are you guys trying to kill each other?"

Alfred frowns for a moment, and sends him a smile, "Now that I think about, I wouldn't mind seeing the son of a bitch lying on the ground." He nods absentmindedly and adds, "But we both know that we're both planning each other's downfall. There is a war between us coming and I will _win it_."

Arthur raises and eyebrow. "Seems to me it already started."

He doesn't mention how the temperature in the room drops so suddenly by Alfred and Ivan just interacting.

-

"Such pretty blue eyes you have," Ivan laughs and grabs the glasses off Alfred's nose. Alfred reaches, trying to retrieve them, and Ivan teasingly holds behind his reach, putting them on the shelf as tall as himself.

-

Alfred's first impression of Ivan was that his hands were too cold for hands that were gloved and that he seemed like a good man and had a nice smile.

Ivan's first impression of Alfred that he seemed like a fool but had so much potential to turn into a great nation.

Alfred's impression of Ivan had changed completely in just a few years, and it didn't take World War II for him to learn that his smile was too convincing, so much that it was definitely not real.

Ivan had saw that Alfred did not waste his potential and amused himself by watching his antics, occasionally slipping into his life.

Soon, America had become a Capitalist Pig to Ivan, and to Alfred, Russia was a Communist Bastard, maybe forever, who knows since when.

-

"Texas is still yours, of course," Ivan says and leans to press the first kiss against Alfred's lips. Alfred is taken by surprise but does not think much of it when Ivan begins to take off his clothes.

-

They had invented many nicknames for each other during the Cold War.

It was all through their conversations during that period. (More like arguments)

Their conversations would develop slowly, and each fight and argument would start from subtle hints of a future war on each other, subtle ones, to very light threats, to a battle of insults and banter until Alfred would describe in detail what would he do to Ivan when the war starts, and Ivan would laugh and do the same.

-

Once, Ivan had told him, "Look, did Germany allow all those lives to be killed in the worst ways possible because he believed they deserved it? No, of course not, it's written all over his face. And do you think we nations kill so many and do all those _horrible _things because we're sadistic? No, because sacrifices are unavoidable, and I hate it," he added, hiding a spark of sadness with his ever-present smile, "I hate it very much. But that's what a soldier is, isn't it? You go along and don't support it. You kill. You destroy. Nations are soldiers in many ways. You're one too, America."

-

Obviously, Ivan keeps the scarf, even when they are both completely naked.

Ivan kisses him from his mouth and neck to abdomen until his mouth leaves a little peck much lower, and his hand replaces his mouth where it gently strokes and feels the skin of Alfred's length.

-

Ivan and Alfred stand together, face to face knowing that the longest war that never was is coming to its end. Ivan smiles and the temperature of the room seems to drop, but of course, not when they're at Alfred's, who's hot and alive inside unlike the endless hollow cold inside Ivan.

-

Alfred allows Ivan to dominate for the first time, allows Ivan to freely explore his body, a body different from his own. Until Ivan let's go of Alfred's erection, and says, "Now, America, I can't be the only one fucking you, now can I?~" He pulls Alfred towards himself, and tells him, "And no, my body is not really that cold, despite how it seems to be. I don't know, I never asked anyone."

-

Ivan visits him one day, when it's warm and bright and sunny and yet he still doesn't take the scarf off, and he's probably sweating- but maybe, maybe he is so cold, he cannot get rid of it even in warm places. Ivan looks at the field of flowers in Kansas, stares and stares and stares – his expression a melancholy sadness, calm and needing and pained.

Alfred quickly says, suspicious, "No, I'm not giving you Kansas, Russia."

To his surprise, Ivan nods. "I suppose that wouldn't be fair to you. But you would be one with my one day, so that wouldn't be a problem. Of course not. And I'll no longer be the coldest country. You know, I've always been exactly where I don't want to be. Everywhere but where I had always dreamt of being. Always where the sunflowers aren't."

-

Alfred remembers taking it to the bed, and so he wakes up next to an Ivan with only his scarf on. Ivan is asleep, and Alfred hears him speak (who knew the bastard mumbled in his sleep?), but he doesn't want to listen, and yet maybe he does, he is a curious person after all.

He focuses his attention for one moment and makes out nothing but names. There are a few female Russian names- some of them are somehow familiar, but he cannot remember why (hey, it's Ivan's history and Alfred doesn't quite want to know it), and a few male ones (his heart skips a beat when Ivan's face lights up at the name Toris - what_ have you been doing to him, you sadistic bastard?_), and then his own.

Maybe he should ask Ivan to call him by name the next time they sleep together. Of course, Ivan's reaction is predictable. Alfred can imagine him laughing already.

Before he gets off the bed, he submits to temptation and plants a kiss on Ivan's cheek. Last night involved a lot of talking, but in all, Alfred had rather enjoyed the sexual part.

-

"Don't you realize," Alfred hisses, "How many people died, and how many people were killed- _by you_- because of this fucking system, you commie piece of shit?"

Ivan tilts his head, as though he's a child that doesn't understand an explanation- to mock him, that liar. "Now, America, to get where I am right now, sacrifices must be made, am I right? After all, a real nation can't let his human side get in the way."

Alfred opens his mouth to speak, to protest, to shout, but Ivan silences him with his hand and smiles wistfully, "Now, now, you can't always put your conscience over everything, because that is a weakness as much as it is a strength. Do you think I enjoyed watching those people die? Do you think everything happened the way it was because I wanted it to? No," He shakes his head, something in his movements resembling childishness, "Not at all, in fact. Things never go exactly the way I want them to. But as some of the people you know will say, better look on the bright side of things, right?" He smiles, and _won't stop_, won't fucking stop smiling, even during sex.

-

The war that they had spoken of had never actually started- but for Alfred, the moments that he thought that he _knew _there will be a nuclear war and that there will be a big one, the moments that his relationship with Ivan had gone wrong, the tension and moments of suspense between them, and many little things, made up an entire period, a war on its own.

Personally, he thinks it should have been called The War That Never Was. It fit. He rather liked that name.

-

Alfred leans against the head of the bed and comes, breathing. Ivan pulls the blanket over them both, the night sky in the background of the window, surrounded by snow that blocks out any moonlight that ever was.

-

Alfred had grown to despise red.

And that was just a shame, as Ivan had put it.

It looked good on his flag after all.

-

Notes:

"_Ты меня слышишь, грязный, подлый сукин сын?"- __"Do you hear me, you dirty, cowardly son of a bitch? _


End file.
